


And We All Fell Down When The Sun Came Up (I Think I've Had Enough)

by PeriPeriwinkle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Sexual Assault, Clubbing, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Hospitals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6336835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeriPeriwinkle/pseuds/PeriPeriwinkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bull is a bouncer at an LGBT friendly club, and Dorian is a 19-years-old kid trying to trick said bouncer into letting him and his friend in - with their obviously fake IDs.</p><p>Bull is having none of that shit at his club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We All Fell Down When The Sun Came Up (I Think I've Had Enough)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the following prompt:  
>  _"Adoribull AU: Dorian is a 16-17 year old hipster nerd who tries to get into a gay night club but Bull the bouncers stops him. He gets in somehow and Bull saves his drunken ass and drives him home. Soon enough Bull becomes Dorians hot older boyfriend who picks up from school on a motorcycle or a pick-up truck."_
> 
> Thank you to [Jasper](http://justjasper.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing my fic - you helped me SO MUCH!!! THANK YOU AGAIN <3 - and [koutou](http://sometrashland.tumblr.com/) for being so enthusiastic about this AU and my fics in general ; v ; and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!!
> 
> (the title comes from the song "Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time" by Panic At The Disco)

Friday night, clear sky, a cool breeze blowing and making the people in line huddle closer together and hug their coats tighter. Bull looked ahead, narrowing his eyes in what he called his menacing stare, and a boy trying to offer pills to people in the line slinked away, face paling considerably. Bull grinned; apparently, it’d be a calm night.

He checked the ID of a group of attractive women, all in their thirties, offering them a grin as the red head bringing up the front walked past him, her hand suggestively brushing his bare arm. A good evening, indeed. He grinned, looking back as she blew him a kiss, trying to keep in mind her face and what she wore so he could find her later on, then eyed the couple next in line. Immediately he raised his brow at the boy standing before him: a bit short, probably not grown into his full size yet, with brown skin, a black undercut hair and a curled moustache that seemed to want to be a lot more dashing than it actually was. The girl next to him, dark skin contrasting beautifully with her short golden dress and curly hair put up in a neat bun, smiled nervously up at Bull as the boy, with all the confidence of someone who absolutely knew they belonged carried, handed him their IDs. Still, nothing could hide how everything about them both screamed _kids_.

He took their IDs – obviously fake – and purposefully took much longer than usual to verify them, to see how they would react. The boy – Dorian Trevelyan, according to the name on the document – slowly grew angrier, glaring defiantly at Bull, almost as if daring the bouncer to say something, while the girl – Josephine Theirin – began fidgeting with her tiny handbag, looking around nervously.

“Sorry kids,”  Bull said finally, pulling a pair of pink scissors off his back pocket. Dorian widened his eyes, Josephine bit her lip nervously, and before either of them could say anything he cut both their fake IDs in half. “Hate to do this, but you know the rules. Can’t go in if you’re not 21 or over.”

“How _dare_ you! Those were our personal documents!” Dorian gritted between his teeth, stepping closer to Bull to appear intimidating. Bull, however, had his fair share of angry opportunists on the door of this club, a popular LGBT friendly joint in town, and so he stood up straighter, threw his shoulders back and flexed his pectorals enough to make the buttons of his black dress shirt pull dangerously at the seams. The boy gulped, eyes briefly looking down before focusing again on Bull’s single eye. “You had no right!” He continued, hissing menacingly, his face twisting in an ugly, angry snarl, and that got a low chuckle out of Bull. _Cute_ , he thought, _how he thinks he can frighten me_.

“Tell you what, kid. I have a friend who’s a cop during the day, and she’s here tonight. I show her your IDs, and if she deems them real, I’ll apologize and pay for their replacement, plus both your drinks for the rest of the whole year. If not, well...” Bull leaned closer, coming down lower to look at Dorian eye to eye, making the boy gulp, but not waver. He didn’t show, but Bull was slightly impressed; Dorian was the first one to hold his ground when he came this threateningly close. “You and your little friend will be spending the night in jail. Your choice.”

Josephine stepped in then, wrapping her arms around Dorian’s elbow. “Let’s go, Dorian, it’s not worth it,” she pleaded, but still Dorian didn’t hesitate. He held his angry stare, no matter that Bull was almost twice his size in both height and width, while his friend nervously looked at them both, probably wondering whether or not it’d be better or worse for her to stay or flee.

“I’ve got nothing to hide, old man,” Dorian jeered, and _oh_ ; _that_ made Bull smile, his lips curling up to bare his teeth in a mock grin. He knew how to make it look scary as shit, too, and poor little Josephine looked about to piss herself. But Dorian smiled right back, licking his lips as he did so. Confident. Too confident. “Lead the way.”

Bull nodded quickly to the indoors bouncer, Sten, wordlessly  asking him to step in while Bull went inside the club with the kids. “Walk towards the bar, and don’t try anything funny. I’ll be right behind you the whole time.”

“But of course! I wouldn’t _dream_ of trying to trick you, mister bouncer.” Dorian said over his shoulder, pressing a hand covered in gold rings to his chest, then smiling and fluttering his lashes. Bull frowned, making sure to keep extra attention on him. The kid seemed like trouble, and Bull never really liked troublemakers. Too much hassle.

 _So much for a calm night_ , he thought, looking up to see if he could spot Cassandra in her usual place. From the corner of his eye he saw the girl whispering to Dorian, whatever she said muffled by the sound of the pounding music. Dorian waved his head and held her hand, apparently reassuring her of whatever she was worried about. Bull would feel really satisfied to see his grin waver under Cassandra’s stern reprimand. Hopefully the whole experience would put them off ever trying this stupid stunt again.

However, it seemed like Bull had _really_ underestimated Dorian. Slowly, he noticed the boy wandering closer and closer to his left side, his _blind_ side, bit by bit vanishing from his point of view. “ _Hey_ ,” he growled, making Dorian turn back again, an innocent look on his eyes. _Fucking prick_. “Y’think I’m stupid?”

“What is the matter? I’m still walking in front of you, like you said,” Dorian grinned, and Bull squinted, blood boiling.

“Very clever, big guy. I said not to try anything funny. You want to make a scene here, I promise, things won’t end well for you.”

“Oh, I would _never_ ,” Dorian faked a shocked expression, again putting his hand on his chest. “You think too little of me, mister bouncer.”

“For good reason, apparently,” Bull said, looking up again to check on Cassandra. She caught his eye and he nodded, once, to indicate he was coming to her, then looked back down at the two--

One. There was only _one_ kid.

“Where’s the girl?” He asked, glaring at Dorian, and the boy raised a single brow.

“Girl? What girl, pray tell? I believe I have no idea what girl you’re referring to.”

“ _You little shit_ ,” he growled, then spun around to his right, trying to find a flash of dark hair in the crowd, maybe a hint of a sparkly dress – so, pretty much, a girl that looked exactly like half the girls in the club. No chance. She’d disappeared in the crowd as quickly as she’d vanished from his view. “You fucking...!” He turned again, stepping closer to Dorian--

...to find he, too, was gone. _Koslun’s balls._

The music in the club was loud, but the pounding of his pulse in his ears was louder still, and the combination of the two made a headache crawl inside his skull, annoyingly painful. He was _mad_. A couple of underage kids managed to trick him into entering the club, and he’d lost sight of them. The place was huge; it’d probably take him all night to spot them, and if he’d just let it go and management found out, it could very well cost him his job. _Hell_ , it could cost him his _reputation_ , and he probably wouldn’t be able to work anywhere else in the city. Not for the first nor for the last time he cursed his missing eye and walked the rest of the way towards Cassandra.

“You don’t look too good,” she said, sipping on her martini, and Bull sighed, taking a seat on the stool next to her and waving Cabot over.

“Yeah, no shit,” he grunted, taking the offered bottle of water and cracking the lid open more forcefully than needed. Cass watched carefully as Bull tipped the bottle back and drank it all in one go, crushing the empty plastic bottle in his fist.

“Rough night?” She asked sympathetically, and Bull sighed out, exhausted all of the sudden.

“Not really, but it’s about to become.” He scanned the crowd again with his eye, with no luck. There were no signs of the kids anywhere. _Shit_. “Two underage kids with fake IDs. I was bringing them in to talk to you, get you to shake them a bit, when they fucking _tricked_ me. Vanished one at a time from right under my nose, like fucking sneaky ninjas.”

The officer raised a single brow, then sipped on her glass again. “That’s very unlike you, Bull. So, what now?”

“Now it’s _open season_ ,” he growled under his breath, getting up from his seat as Cass nodded solemnly at him. “I’m going to find these fuckers, even if I have to get them just as they’re leaving the premises.”

So Bull headed to the front doors, asked Sten if he could take over the line for the rest of the evening, which he agreed to, and he took over the dance floor, watching the people as much as he could in the dim and flashing lights and the constant throng of jumping bodies.

A few times he caught sight of Dorian – dancing, usually sandwiched between two men, Josephine dancing next to him or watching from afar – but every time he came close enough, they’d already be gone. The third time he got real close, but got dragged at the last second into separating a fight that could’ve easily turned into something more serious, and on the fourth he got sidetracked to help a girl so drunk she could barely put one foot in front of the other.

By the time the drunk girl’s friends appeared and Bull had personally seen that she was taken home safely by their designated driver, he had no idea where else to look, and honestly, he could barely care. The club was uncomfortably stuffy with so many bodies so close to each other, his headache had slowly grown to a sharp pounding at the back of his eyes, and he was tired from walking back and forth, his bad knee aching something fierce. All he wanted was a shot of something strong at the end of his shift and to go home and drag himself under the covers, consequences be damned. He tried his best, and that would have to be enough.

He approached the bar, flopping down on the seat that Cass had vacated an hour prior, and Cabot wordlessly approached him, handing him another bottle of water. Bull grunted, wishing it was whiskey instead, but drank anyway.

“I saw your mustached underage boy,” Cabot said as he wiped down the counter, a tense edge to his voice, and Bull perked up at that. “Was sitting at the bar with a handsome looking guy, probably twice his age, for almost half an hour. He left about a minute ago, but I don’t like it.”

Bull raised a brow, straightening his back. “What do you mean, you don’t like it?” He asked, serious, and Cabot sighed.

“Your kid seemed... wobbly. A bit too wobbly for someone who only had a couple of shots of tequila and half a glass of a drink that was more juice than alcohol. He was even nursing a glass of water when mister tall-and-handsome came flirting with him. Something didn’t feel right, but when I decided to go and say something they were already gone.”

“Shit,” Bull muttered, getting up quickly and ignoring the ache on his knee. Sten was supposed to be on the lookout for the kid and his friend, but Bull forgot to consider the possibility that either one of them could maybe leave with different company, and by Cabot’s description, he thought he had a fairly good idea of what had probably happened. After three years of working in clubs, Bull had seen his fair share of men and woman being distracted by both friends and strangers with bad intentions, had more than once caught drinks being spiked maliciously, had called the cops and watched dazed victims being driven to the hospital more times than he would’ve liked. It sickened him to think that a young person like Dorian was now being added to the list of people he couldn’t help in time, partially because he’d let the kid practically slip away from his bare fingers.

One minute. With luck, the perp had parked far from the club and he had time to catch up. Or maybe he was on foot. Or maybe someone saw them and caught the pair before they left for good. He looked around one final time, to make sure Dorian and the mysterious guy really weren’t in the club anymore – like that did him any good all night long – when he spotted Josephine.

She was looking around frantically while glancing down at the phone in her hand, stepping back and forth like she didn’t know whether to go or to stay where she was. Bull approached her, but instead of running when she spotted him, she ran up to him, clinging to his arm.

“Please, you have to help me,” she begged, her voice shaky. “Dorian’s gone, and I’m really worried because he said he was just going to sit down at the bar for a bit, drink some water, and then I saw a guy talking to him, and, and that was okay, because I was keeping an eye on him, and next thing I know they’re both _gone_ , and Dorian would have never left without letting me know before, _never_ , and he won’t pick up his phone, and what should I do, I don’t know what to do--”

“Hey, hey, hey. Slow down. Deep breaths.” Bull whispered, bending down to her eye level, and Josephine breathed in, although raggedly and weakly. “How did the guy look like?”

“Tall. Brown hair. L-light skin. I didn’t see his face, he was facing Dori. Uh. Dress shirt? Pink. Light pink. And- and tight jeans.”

“Good, that’s good. And Dorian’s phone is ringing?”

“Y-yes. Yes it is. He never leaves it on vibrate when we go out together, in case... in case it’s an emergency.” Josephine’s shoulders slumped at that, her bottom lip trembling as the first tear ran down her cheek. Bull rubbed her arm reassuringly.

“Alright, that’s great, you two did good. Now, I’m going to go out and see if your friend is in the general area of the club, and you are going to talk to the bouncer at the door and ask him to call the police. _Immediately_.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, nodding. Bull nodded back, then got up, his knee cracking with the motion.

“And keep calling him. If I hear his phone ringing, I’ll know it’s him.”

Bull turned around without waiting for a reply, then dashed out through the employees’ back door, quickly mounting and turning on his motorbike. He tried to catalog all of the common places people parked their cars around the club as he drove around the empty streets, fast enough to look around properly and to hopefully catch the pair before anything happened.

Then he suddenly remembered something: a dead-end block just a few meters away from the club that led to nowhere, bunch of empty houses closed off for renovations or just abandoned. A dark and secluded place for couples who might not want to be found during a quick thirst, he’d heard some of the clubbers saying a couple of weeks ago, giggling among themselves. His heart sped up, and he tightened his grip on the bike’s steer, accelerating. Not a minute later he approached the block, then turned sharply, halting as his bike's wheels screeched on the pavement.

Just as he predicted, at the end of the block his headlights illuminated two people: a man wearing a half open pink button-up shirt, crowding over someone too small to be seen under his arms, right hand tight around their throat. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights for a second, but then he recovered, trying to look menacing instead. “Fuck off! We’re busy!” He shouted as Bull dismounted, taking quick and measured steps towards the pair. The man visibly gulped, and scarily enough, the body beneath his barely moved a muscle, hands loose besides their body. “I-I said fuck off, man! Can’t you see you’re not invited?”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Bull growled, loud enough to make the man flinch and step back, finally revealing Dorian. Dorian, with his cheeks red and eyebrow bleeding, mouth hanging open and eyes half-lidded, with his jeans open and halfway down his thighs and his body slumped over the wall he was leaning against, as if it was the only thing keeping him upright. Bile rose to Bull’s throat as he felt his stomach flip, his eyes widening as he bared his teeth in rage.

On the floor, a mobile phone began to vibrate and ring, making Bull look towards it, and the man cursed loudly, taking that moment of distraction to let go of Dorian and attempt to flee.

He turned to Bull’s right side, though, and Bull dove.

The perp was obviously not expecting someone as big and bulky as Bull to be as fast as he was, and that cost him his head start. He shrieked, trying to twist away from the hand that reached out for him, but all that did was get him closer to the wall on his left. Bull used that to his advantage, pushing the perp against it, crashing the man’s head on the uneven and old brickwork and making him waver, then he reached for the man’s other shoulder, squeezing on just the right spot, and like an off switch, the man blacked out under his hands.

Bull turned around after setting the man on the floor, heading straight to Dorian, who despite his wobbliness had managed to keep himself upright by leaning further back against the wall, shaky fingers trying to find something to hang on to as his legs slowly slipped down with the weight of his body. “Whoa, careful,” Bull said, catching Dorian just as he was about to collapse, and once he had him safe in his arms he reached in his pocket, immediately calling for an ambulance.

The forgotten phone on the floor behind them both rang again just as he hung up with the emergency line, and he reached out and picked up the call.

“ _Oh Maker! Dorian, is that you?_ ” Josephine shouted from the other side of the line, and Bull sighed with relief, pulling Dorian closer against his chest. Scarily, the kid didn’t protest, didn’t say a word; he just slumped against the bouncer’s muscles as if he was a puppet with his strings cut off. It unnerved Bull to no end, a shiver running through his body, and he had to remind himself that beating up the perp to a bloody pulp wouldn’t do him any favors, no matter how much better it would make him feel.

“It’s me, the bouncer. I’ve got Dorian here with me, and I’ve called an ambulance for him.” He looked down, watching as Dorian blinked in a daze at nothing, drool dripping from his bottom lip. It made something in his chest throb painfully. “Can you ask the cops to meet me here?”

She quickly agreed, and Bull gave her the address of the alley, placing both phones in the inner pocket of his jacket once he hung up, focusing back on the kid in his arms. He pulled Dorian’s pants up, noticing the busted fly button. Probably ripped off when the guy was hurrying to get him out of his jeans. _Fuck_.

“Hey. Hey, Dorian, can you hear me, big guy?” Bull whispered, shaking him a little, but all that did was make his head bob from side to side, like a broken doll. _Shitshitshit_. In his mind, he wondered how much of that was the drug talking, and how much it meant that he got there much too late. Sirens could be heard from afar, and his heart sped up. He glanced at the perp, still knocked out, and prayed to Koslun that that was their ambulance. “Help’s on its way, you hear me Dorian? You’re gonna be okay,” he whispered, knowing that Dorian probably couldn’t hear him, but wanting to reassure him anyway.

The police – Cassandra, looking awfully grim, and Aveline, her partner – arrived a few seconds later, and immediately Josephine dashed up to Dorian and Bull, bursting into tears when anything she asked Dorian was met with equally terrifying silence. Aveline and Cassandra cuffed the perpetrator, who was slowly waking back up; the ambulance arrived just as they were shoving him inside their car, the paramedics rushing towards Bull with their equipment. He handed Dorian over and shook his head when they asked him if he was family, and if he knew what Dorian had taken.

“Probably a roofie. The perp had his hand around his throat when I got here, but he seems to be breathing fine, just not responding well to anything,” he said, and the paramedics nodded, putting Dorian up on the stretcher and wheeling him quickly towards the ambulance. Josephine desperately begged to ride with them, claiming she was Dorian’s cousin – if it was true or not,  Bull couldn’t tell, but they agreed to it quickly enough, and when the back doors closed Cass placed a hand on his shoulder, breaking him out of his daze.

"I’ll meet you there,” Cassandra said, walking inside her car with Aveline. “I’m going to take this one in first. Don’t forget to ask your boss for the security tapes.”

“Will do,” Bull replied, already mounting and taking off on his bike to follow the ambulance.

At the hospital, Bull was barred from entering with the ambulance, something which he should’ve predicted but forgot to take into account. He had to go around the building into the parking lot, placing his bike as close to the front doors as possible, and inside the glaring white lights of the corridor he wondered, chest heaving for breath as if he was running a marathon, _how in the hell am I supposed to find Dorian?_

The reception desk wasn’t any help. Having only Dorian’s first name wasn’t worth shit, no matter how accurate Bull’s description of the kid was. The receptionist squinted her eyes at Bull, annoyed and maybe even suspicious of his insistence, while she repeatedly told him to wait further down the hall at the waiting room. After ten minutes bickering back and forth, Bull finally relented and stomped to the chairs he was pointed to, reaching out to a passing nurse and asking her if she could help him. She briefly looked him up and down, sneered, then kept walking.

Familiar anger rose up in him, making his face flush and his muscles tense. He wanted to say something, retort, _argue_ , but people were already looking sideways at him. It wouldn’t do him any good to disturb the patients and the doctors over rude staff, no matter how much he wanted to, and how much they probably deserved.

Bull slumped down on the too-small chairs behind him, hiding his face in his hands and sighing out heavily as worry bubbled up inside him like a boiling pot ready to overflow, wondering and asking himself again and again if Dorian was okay and why was everyone so goddamn _unhelpful_.

“Bull?” Came a voice from above, and he snapped his head up quickly, finding Cassandra standing over him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m...” he began, finding that the words failed him. He looked down at his hands, unclenching his fists, and Cassandra frowned.

“They didn’t tell you where he is, did they.”

Bull shook his head, and Cassandra helped him up, taking him towards the elevator, but not before shooting a nasty glance to the receptionist, who flinched back. Bull felt exhausted; each step was like someone else was guiding him, pushing him forward, and almost as if time sped up, he suddenly saw Josephine, Dorian’s friend, curled up on a chair next to a few examination rooms. Cassandra stepped up, sitting right next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, and Bull just stared ahead, at the closed door of the room Dorian was probably in, and he wondered, again, if he’d been too late this time.

He took a seat across from Cassandra and Josephine, leaning his head against the coffee machine next to him to listen to its humming, and waited.

If walking to the examination room was like jumping through time, waiting it out was like pushing through waist-deep mud. The minutes dragged on, the sounds and smells of the hospital unnerving Bull to no end, the lights piercing his green eye and worsening his previously forgotten headache, bit by bit. Josephine had calmed down, and she and Cass were chatting, the girl cradling a cup of water that she apparently had very little intention to drink. A few times Bull tried pulling his phone out, playing some games, browsing the internet, but he was too restless to focus on anything, and he ended up putting it away again and again and again. He saw the worried glances Cass shot his way more than once, but it was easier to pretend he didn’t.

About an hour later, a blond haired doctor walked out of the room, gently guiding Dorian, unsteady on his feet but walking nevertheless, with a hand on his back. The three of them rose to their feet, Josephine running to stand next to Dorian, who tried giving her a weak reassuring smile. The doctor pinched his lips together and turned to Cassandra and Bull.

“You must be the police officer,” he said, shaking Cassandra’s hand.

“Officer Penthagast, nice to meet you.” She said, then the doctor turned to Bull.

“And you’re the one who found him, I presume?” Bull nodded, and shook his hand too. He had a strong grip. “Doctor Anders, at your disposal. Young Dorian is just fine, thankfully nothing happened to him besides some scrapes and bruises. He’ll heal up in no time.”

It was like everyone was holding their breaths, waiting for this piece of news, and once it was there in the open the tension in the air immediately let up, like a weight falling off everyone’s shoulders. Bull sagged a little, rubbing a hand down his face. He wanted to both holler with joy and fall into a fluffy bed and not get up for at least twenty hours or so. He probably deserved it, too.

Dorian looked up when Anders placed a hand on his head, and Bull saw the light sheen of a cream covering the bruises on his neck and a couple of butterfly bandages over the cut on his eyebrow. “Thank you,” Dorian whispered, voice rough, making Anders smile. He looked dazed, only slightly aware of his surroundings, which Bull thought was probably a good sign. Probably.

“We gave him activated charcoal to absorb some of the drug on his system, and after that he was conscious enough to be able to tell us what happened, but frankly, I don’t know how much of today he’ll remember.”

“Thank you, Doctor. These are great news nevertheless. We’re glad to hear them.” Cassandra said, and Anders grinned.

“It was my pleasure, Dorian’s a good kid.” He looked down to Josephine, still holding his hand, and nodded. “He’s on strict bed rest starting now, until he feels better. Make sure he does that, okay?”

“I will, doctor,” she said, biting her bottom lip. Dorian bumped foreheads with her, and fresh tears streamed down her cheek as she smiled.

A few minutes later, as Dorian was being properly checked out, Cass lingered behind to talk to doctor Anders. Bull lifted his single brow once Cass was back, and she gently pulled him to the side as Josephine and Dorian quietly talked to each other as they waited for the receptionist to finish with the paperwork.

“I know you’ve been worrying, as you usually do,” she started on a hushed breath, making Bull lean closer to properly listen to her. “So I thought you’d be glad to know they didn’t need to use a rape kit on him. He’s fine, just a bit shaken. You got there on time, Bull.”

“Oh,” he said, breathing out. Relief flooded through him, like warmth sunshine flowing inside his veins, down to the tip of his fingers. Cass was almost certainly breaking some protocol by doing this, telling him information that was probably confidential in some level, and it spoke volumes as to how much she regarded their friendship. How much Cass worried about him, too. “Thanks, Cass,” he said. “I’m... glad to hear it.”

“I thought you might,” She said, smiling, then walked to where Dorian was already being seated by a nurse on a wheelchair to leave the hospital premises.

The nurse took Dorian down to the sidewalk, where Bull helped him up, the boy clinging tightly to his arm.

“Think he can go tomorrow to give his statement, Cass?” Bull asked, watching as Dorian wobbled on his two feet, and she nodded.

“I’ll hang on to the perp for as long as needed, Bull. Do you two need a ride?” Cassandra asked, and Josephine bit her lip, rubbing her neck.

“It’s okay, I... I have cash for a cab,” The girl replied, but Cass shook her head.

“Nonsense. Keep the money, I’ll gladly take you. I came with the station’s bike, though. Think you can take the boy, Bull?”

“Can do,” he said, crouching to get to Dorian’s eye level. “What d’you say? Can I take you home?”

Dorian nodded, breathing out. His eyes were a bit more focused, but he still shook and looked a bit pale. Bull waited patiently, and finally Dorian met his eyes, none of the fire from the beginning of the evening there to be seen. It broke Bull’s heart all over again to seem him like that.

“Yeah,” he whispered, nodding. “Yeah, please take me home.”

 

\---

 

Dorian woke up the next day with a headache and a parched mouth, feeling absolutely lost. He had no idea where he was for a second, but quickly he recognized the ceiling lamp as his own, and slowly things came into focus, although he couldn’t remember much of the previous evening, at least nothing right after...

...after he accepted the drink from that man at the club. _Fasta vass_.

He quickly sat up, immediately regretting his decision as the world around him spun and his stomach heaved uncomfortably. He coughed, feeling the pain in his head sharpen with the motion, and quickly a figure hovered over him, offering him a glass of blessedly cold water.

“Drink up, buddy,” Dorian heard, recognizing the voice as Felix’s, and he tried to take the glass, although his hand shook dangerously. “Here, let me,” Felix said softly, raising the glass to Dorian’s lips and urging him to drink. Dorian hummed in thanks, holding on to Felix’s wrist and letting his friend tip the glass back slowly over his lips, only pulling back once it was thoroughly empty.

Dorian still felt dizzy and exhausted, and his head hurt terribly, but the cold water settled his stomach a bit, although he still felt a mild nausea that made him want to puke. He kept his eyes down on the bed as Felix seemed to try and talk to him, something about food, which made him grimace, and something else about a bouncer, which made Dorian look up.

Standing in the doorway to his bedroom was a man so tall he had to duck to walk through the threshold, dark skin and bald head, a shiny silver eye patch on the left side of his face. Dorian immediately recognized him as the bouncer of the club that he’d snuck into yesterday. _That_ , that he remembered well, how pissed off the man was, and how he looked for him and Josie all night long while he flirted and danced unashamedly with other guys for the first time. The man leaned against the wall, crossing his massive arms, and Dorian tensed up almost automatically, causing the man to sigh and relax his stance. Felix sat back down on the chair next to the bed, rubbing his hands together like when he usually did when he got nervous.

“No need to worry, kid. You went through enough, you don’t need me berating you on top of it all.”

“What happened, exactly...?” Dorian asked, his voice rough, and Felix looked at Dorian like he was a lost puppy who’d just been run over. His heart beat fast in his ears, and he sat up straighter, trying to catalog any unusual aches in his body. His eye, face and neck throbbed, but did anywhere else...?

“Nothing happened,” Bull said, which Dorian knew was only a half truth, but it was enough to make him breathe a little easier and make his hands stop clutching tightly onto the bed sheets. “Dunno how much you remember, but I found the guy from last night trying to grope you, not too far from the club. Doctor said I got there right on time, you just had had a few bruises. Should heal up real quickly.”

Dorian nodded, not knowing what else to say, and as the silence stretched, Felix got up, taking the glass of water with him. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” he said, and left the room, keeping the door ajar.

Bull stepped further in then, taking the seat Felix vacated and leaning forward on his elbows.

“How you feeling, kid? Doc said you might be a bit woozy for a few days.” He asked, voice low and gentle, as if he was trying not to frighten a scared animal, and Dorian relaxed a bit, leaning back against his bed’s headboard.

“I’m okay,” he lied, wincing at Bull’s sharply raised eyebrow. The only one he had, too, but still the effect was not lost on Dorian. He rolled his eyes, then sighed out heavily, gulping back another wave of nausea. “I’ve been better. And, uh. Thank you. And I’m sorry, for misleading you yesterday.”

“No harm done,” Bull shrugged, then looked around Dorian’s room, at the books piled up on his desk and the dirty laundry basket overflowing with clothes. Dorian waited for the man to say something, and when he didn’t, he closed his eyes, trying to pull something from last night out of his brain, but all he managed to get were just blurred parts and pieces, impressions of things he felt and heard. He remembered the cold air of the evening suddenly hitting his face, his phone ringing loudly in his back pocket, hands forcing his clothes open, a sharp, searing pain on his cheek...

...and then two arms around him, cradling him, a warm chest under his cheek, a rumbling yet soothing voice in his ear.

When Dorian looked back up, the bouncer was looking at him, his eye soft and gentle. A part of him told Dorian that the man’s stare should have unnerved him, somehow, but it did just the opposite; Dorian felt, well. Safe. Content. Protected.

“I never got your name,” he whispered, barely above a breath, and Bull grinned.

“It’s Bull. And no, before you ask, it’s not a stage name.” Dorian laughed, closing his eye.

“Fitting,” Dorian said, smiling softly, and looked back to the sheets over his legs. “Really though, I do thank you. You didn’t have to do what you did, and because of it... well. I hope you don’t get into any sort of trouble because of my recklessness.”

“Hey, no, none of that. Don’t think for a second that what happened was your fault, because it wasn’t.”

“Well, if I hadn’t been in the club in the first place--”

“ _No_ , it literally doesn’t matter.” Bull interrupted Dorian, voice gentle and sure, not letting the boy finish his train of thought. “No reason gives _anyone_ the right to drug and abuse you, Dorian. _Ever_.”

Dorian snapped his mouth shut, a slight blush rising to his cheeks as he looked back down at his hands, head pounding uncomfortably. He felt like a fool for letting himself be distracted like that at the bar, even though he knew better. But he also knew that thinking like that would do him no favors.

“I know,” he whispered. If it hadn’t been him, Dorian thought, it probably would’ve been someone else more vulnerable, someone that wasn’t being watched all night long. Someone that no one would’ve noticed if they just vanished out of thin air like he did. And maybe things wouldn’t have ended as well as they did, so maybe it really was okay. “Will you... accompany me when I go press charges?” He asked. _I’d very much appreciate your soothing presence with me when I’m there_ , he thought, but didn’t dare say out loud. Bull nodded, almost as if hearing Dorian’s unspoken thoughts.

“Of course, big guy. Anything you need. Oh, right. This is yours.” Bull reached inside his jeans pocket, pulling out Dorian’s phone, which he noticed with a frown that it now had an indent at the bottom, and a few strips of plastic that he recognized as his and Josephine’s fake IDs. “Sorry again about the IDs. I know how expensive it is to get them done, but you know how it is. Nothing personal, I just like my job too much to lose it over letting shit like this slide.”

Dorian picked at the remainders of his fake ID and raised a brow. “ _You_ know how expensive it is? How, pray tell, do you know this exactly?”

“I know some people,” Bull shrugged, grinning. “Hey, I was young like you not too long ago. You’re not the only one who knows this kind of underground shit.”

Dorian paused, blinking, trying to assess how _old_ Bull actually was. And now, under the morning light and with a lot less threat to his posture, Dorian felt like he _really_ saw Bull. Tall, rugged, big, bulky muscles. He could’ve sworn the shirt he wore was at least two sizes too small, stitches pulling dangerously at the seams, but where Dorian would usually find such a thing appalling, on Bull it looked... well, breath-taking _gorgeous_. It accentuated the man’s curves, hugging him tightly, and while in the evening the effect might’ve been highly intimidating, during the day it just made Dorian’s mouth _water_.

He remembered the day before, how he had to crane his neck up to talk to Bull, and he wondered if even on the tip of his toes he could reach the man’s lips. Not to mention the age gap they obviously had; Dorian wagered Bull must’ve been in his early or mid-thirties, _at least_. Sure, his crush for older, more mature men got him in this mess in the first place, but on the bright side, Dorian assumed it also meant he was no longer in Bull’s ‘naughty list’ for tricking him into getting in the club.

Or maybe he _wanted_ to be in his ‘naughty list’?

_No! Focus, Dorian, focus._

“You were young like me not too long ago?” He drawled out, pretending he hadn’t spent the last few seconds staring; by the slight curve of the man’s single eyebrow though, he wasn’t doing a very good job at it. “Surely you’re _exaggerating_. Either that, or ‘ten years ago’ is the new ‘not too long ago’, it seems, and no one gave me the memo.”

Immediately Bull laughed loudly, throwing his head back and all. It surprised Dorian as much as it confused him, but then Bull looked back at the boy, eyes shining with mirth. “Oh, man. You seriously think I’m _thirty_?”

“Oh. Well.”

_Well._

_A bit off the park, maybe?,_ Dorian thought, gesturing vaguely at Bull, who just kept looking at him as if he was eagerly expecting the end of a punch line. _Isn’t this awkward_. “Yes? No? Hold on, how old _are_ you?”

“Shit. I just turned twenty-five, Dorian. Not as old as you thought, huh?” The man grinned, letting all his charm melt into it, and Dorian blushed a bit, turning his head to cough on his closed fist.

“Oh.” _A_ lot _off the park. The ball has completely left the park’s premises_. Dorian coughed into his fist once more, trying to cover his embarrassment. “If I may say, that eye patch of yours does you no favors. You look like a pirate of sorts. You should get something more... fashionable.”

“Duly noted,” Bull said, smiling again, and Dorian bit his bottom lip awkwardly. The bouncer, however, simply leaned forward and kept striking up a conversation, as if Dorian hadn’t called him _old_ of all things. “So how about you, big guy? You clearly aren’t twenty-one yet, if you need a fake ID, but by the names in these books I’d say you’re in college, probably. So you’re what, nineteen, twenty?”

“Technically, both are correct,” Dorian smiled, going for a bit of a flirty look, which made Bull grin mischievously. “I’m nineteen, turning twenty in a couple of months. I’ve been mistaken for being younger still plenty of times, though, which is why I’m growing the mustache. Guess it still doesn’t do me much good, does it?”

Bull laughed, shaking his head. “Give it time. It has a lot of potential to look as dashing as you do.” He said, making Dorian duck his head as he felt a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Now you’re just trying to flatter me,” he said, and Bull smirked.

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“It might be,” he muttered under his breath, biting his bottom lip yet again. Surely what they were doing couldn’t be mistaken as anything _but_ flirting, and although Dorian usually waited for the other person to do something about it as to not out himself, Bull spent an entire evening watching him make more than just bat his eyelashes at various gorgeous men. He _knew_ , and somehow that took some of the pressure and the nervousness off Dorian's shoulders. “Say... I haven’t planned anything. For my birthday, I mean. But I wouldn’t mind if maybe, just maybe, someone planned something. If that makes sense.”

Bull hummed, scratching his chin, the noise of his stubble against his nails loud and oddly arousing to Dorian. He shifted on the bed, bending his knees slightly, then glared at Bull’s sideways glance. The bastard, he _knew_.

“In two months, you said, right?” He asked, and Dorian nodded. “Thinking how long I have to plan, two months is very little time.” Bull shrugged, faking nonchalance, and Dorian smiled shyly. It was _cute_. Bull leaned back in the chair and relaxed against it, tipping his head a bit. “Tell you what. What do you think I take you out somewhere more... _age appropriate_ later this week when you’re feeling better, and you can give me a few ideas?”

Dorian paused, looking up as if he pretended to be thinking, much like Bull had done. It made the older man smile and shake his head as Dorian angled his head to better show off the sharp angle of his jaw. _Two can play this game, old man_ , he thought, and grinned.

“Why, mister Bull. Are you asking me out?” He finally asked, and Bull rubbed the back of his neck, dropping his cool act altogether.

“Well, shit, I guess I am, aren’t I. Is that cool with you? Cause if it makes you uncomfortable--”

Dorian nodded solemnly. “Yes, of course.” He said, and Bull’s face fell.

“Uh. Shit, sorry, I’ll--” He started, but Dorian widened his eyes, getting up a little from the bed to reach towards Bull.

“ _No!_ No no no, fuck, you _don’t_ make me uncomfortable. _Yes_ is as in _yes_ , that is more than _cool_ , as in, yes, I... I do want to go out with you.”

Bull stared, ass already halfway out of the chair, then slowly sat back down as Dorian pulled away, smiling shyly.

“Yeah?” He asked, hesitant, and Dorian nodded, lying back down. His heart was beating _fast_ , nervous and excited all at once, which was making his head hurt even worse and his limbs feel even more sluggish, but he couldn’t stop smiling despite it all.

“Yes, yes, sorry for giving you a scare. _Again_ , I suppose. Now, can you please let Felix in before he falls over my door while trying to overhear our conversation?”

 

\---

 

“Dorian, is that... oh Maker, is that your boyfriend?!”

Dorian looked up sharply from his mobile, frowning first at Josephine, staring wide-eyed up ahead, then at the college’s courtyard, where a Harley Davidson bike was parked, and no one other than Bull was leaning against it.

The bouncer pocketed his phone and waved enthusiastically at both Dorian and Josie, the goofiest grin on his face. He was wearing the most gorgeous vest on, a gray suit jacket thrown over his shoulder and gray slacks to match, his favorite ornate silver eye patch seeming to gleam on his face. Quite a few people were staring, and Dorian blushed.

_My boyfriend._

“He’s not...!” He started, but Josie just shook her head and pushed him forward, and Dorian relented, quickening his pace and finally walking out of the building, heading straight towards Bull. He stopped just a couple of feets away and Bull stood up straight; he knew that Dorian was technically out of the closet already, but was shy about it, so he kept his distance. Deep down, Dorian was grateful. “How did you get in here?” He hissed, but made sure to not put any real heat behind his words. It _was_ a nice surprise.

“I graduated here, remember? The doorman just opened up when I told him I wanted to surprise a friend.” He replied happily, smiling widely, and from behind his back he produced a simple, wrapped gift box. “Happy birthday, big guy.”

Dorian stared wordlessly, taking the gift gently in his hands. The paper was a tasteful white and black pattern, with an ornate silver bow on top. If it was anywhere else, he would’ve smiled broadly, maybe squealed a bit, hugged Bull and peppered his face with kisses, but as it was, he had to hold himself back and make sure he was not pulling any weird faces. Slowly, he ripped the paper apart, and inside he found a gold bracelet, neatly nestled atop a small velvet cushion. It had the shape of a snake with onyx eyes, and its scales glistened beautifully on the afternoon sun’s glow. Dorian immediately recognized it as the same one he’d seen just two weeks before at a window shop while he was out with Bull, the one he’d fallen in love with and grumbled sadly about his meager intern paycheck that could never afford such a gorgeous and delicate piece of jewelry.

Without giving it a second thought, Dorian took his jacket off, revealing his bare arms, and slid the bracelet on. It fit snugly over his bicep, the gold contrasting beautifully with his darker skin tone, and he smiled.

“Thank you, Bull, I. I love it.” He whispered, and when he looked back at Bull, mouth stretched up in a smile that could blind someone if stared at directly, he couldn’t help but lean up on the tip of his toes and kiss him on the corner of his lips, quickly. His cheeks flushed, but it was worth it just to see Bull’s shocked, yet still bright face. “Truly, I do.”

“Well,” Bull said, and smiled again. Dorian chuckled, walking around Bull to fetch the extra helmet on the bike's trunk, then hopped up, settling on the back seat.

“Now, if you’re quite done _ogling_ my beautiful arms, I’d very much like to be heading home, if you’d please. I’d rather not be late for my own birthday dinner.”

“Vashedan,” Bull whispered a bit breathlessly, then climbed on in front of Dorian, igniting the bike. Over the roar of the engine, he looked over his shoulder and grinned. “You better hurry with turning twenty-one, Dorian. I can’t wait to take you out drinking with me to show you off.” Dorian smiled broadly at that, cheeks flushing, and Bull continued. “No, but seriously! Ferelden really needs to get its ass out of the steel age and change the drinking age to eighteen, like all the other more _sensible_ countries, like, you know that one place, _the rest of fucking Thedas_.”

“But while they don’t, I guess we’ll just have to suffer in silence, or in your case, by counting down the minutes to my next birthday, am I right?” Dorian grinned, pecking Bull in the cheek before putting on his helmet.

“Three hundred and sixty four days, five hours, and... fifty nine minutes to go, big guy!” Bull exclaimed in response, grinning doofilly as Dorian burst into laughter, then finally putting on his own helmet and taking off.

They were in for a rather eventful year, it seemed. 


End file.
